


Liath Earrach

by halestrom



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, M/M, Quidditch, slight dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-01
Updated: 2013-04-01
Packaged: 2017-12-07 03:22:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/743615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halestrom/pseuds/halestrom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You like it,” Malfoy whispered in his ear, his breath hot and full of sin, causing a shiver to run down his spine at the unexpected thrill. “You still want me don’t you?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Liath Earrach

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the 2007 hd_beltane on livejournal.

_Fingers dug into his hips, bruises blooming from the intensity and ferocity of it. His back arched impossibly, hips moving up and down, meeting thrust for thrust, his fingers digging into the soft earth below his body, needing it deeper, faster, harder, needing more. Their mouths pressed against each other, their breath intermingling between gasps and moans released into the air. Stars bloomed against his eyelids as a spark of pleasure shot through his spine. He felt dizzy, the drugs in the wine and the lack of oxygen contributing to the blurry figure moving above him. His legs tightened, pulling the man into him farther and farther, wanting to swallow him completely and never let go. A flash of something pale above him, a grin in the darkness, a drop of sweat landing on his cheek to mingle with his own perspiration. His body feverish, chilled by the cool May wind. He could feel pressure mounting, something inside of him tightening more and more with each movement, each twitch of a muscle contributed to the coil, all leading the way to the end. Fingers dug into his hips tighter, pulling him in, and…_

_April 30th 2008 4:32 AM_

He awoke with a gasp, his body jerking up as he blinked into the darkness of his room. He was breathing deeply, swallowing, aware of a cooling wetness between his legs. A shaky hand was run across his face, rubbing at his eyes. The open window let in a cool gust of hair and he shivered, the wind running across his skin like a lovers caress, bringing goose bumps to the surface. He waved his hand, a cleaning spell muttered under his breath, before dropping his head into his hands, and his elbows to his legs. It was the same dream he had been having for the past month. Except it was not a dream, it was a memory. A memory of the Beltane celebration he had observed at a gay Wizarding club in Glasgow last year. 

He did not know why this one stuck in his mind so much, he was twenty-eight, and had observed the same celebration for six years. 

Each year he arrived at Liath Earrach [1] on May 1st at around seven and passed through the health check to assure he had not contracted any sort of diseases or carried something dangerous. After he was cleared, he would drink the drugged wine that removed all inhibitions, forced the participants to speak only the truth, and stoked within each man and woman an undeniable lust. Then he would head into the dark, forbidding forest that the owners of Liath Earrach created each year to help emulate the place where ancient Beltane rites once took place. 

He could remember each year perfectly. The first year was a tall black haired, blue-eyed man named Jack who he'd ended up dating for a few weeks. The second year was a small, skinny, dark skinned man named Hatim. The third year was a pale, redheaded man whose name and face he couldn’t remember, all he could remember was the thought of Ron above him, thus making it a not so enjoyable occasion. The fourth year was a very tall, very athletic, very American, very good-looking man with the manners of a half-dead cow named Caleb. The fifth year was a brown hair, brown eyed, average, ordinary man named Dexter whom he had actually ended up dating for nine months before they had broken up on mutual terms, they were still good friends. 

Last year was the year that confused him the most. He could remember clearly everything up to a point. He could remember walking in, getting frisked and taking his drink. He remembered drinking the wine and walking into the door that led to the forest and then everything went blurry. He woke up the next day with a hangover and a number written on his palm, a number he had never called. He knew his drink had been spiked with something extra that year, but he never found out what and it left him with the feeling of being violated. He knew he was not raped, it was a well-gone conclusion that if you went there, then you knew what you were getting into and shouldn't really complain. 

He lifted a hand, running fingers through his hair and squeezing his eyes shut as a shiver ran through his body. 

He had felt violated, but at the same time, he could not stop thinking about it. It was easily the best sex he'd ever had, and he wanted to know who it was. It annoyed him to think that this person was some faceless stranger who had left before they had even woken up. He wanted to know more, he wanted to feel those fingers gripping his hips again and he wanted to feel the muscles in the mans arms under his fingers again. The bruises had taken a week and a half to fade, the five spots that dotted his hip a reminder of what had happened that night. He was sure he had scarred the man, his nails digging tracks into his back, opening the skin and allowing blood to seep out. 

A loud beep filled the air and he turned to peer at the blinking lights next to his bed. Reaching for his glasses he pushed them onto his nose and glanced at the clock again. Four thirty, time to get up for practice. 

Allowing himself one fleeting moment to relish the memory of the dream he threw the blankets off his lower body and padded to the bathroom to get ready for the day. 

_April 30th 2008 10:09 AM_

He pulled up on the handle of his broom, coming to a stop as he raised his arm above his head, the snitch clasped tight between his fingers. A triumph grin crossed his face as his teammates cheered. He lowered his arm when he heard the whistle signaling the players to come back down to the pitch sound. Gripping the broom with one hand and the snitch in the other hand he shot towards the pitch, going from two hundred feet in the air to twenty feet in a matter of moments. Pulling up the handle of the broom he came to a stop right before he hit the pitch. Hovering there for a moment before he landed, he handed the snitch to one of the assistant coaches, ignoring the glare directed his way for the maneuver he just pulled off. 

Looking up at the coach, his gaze was captured by the pale hair and skin of an unknown man. He swallowed when the sight brought back the memory of the dream from the previous night. He shifted, trying to ignoring the sudden response as he blinked, allowing his eyes to focus on the man before him. 

He grimaced as his mind substituted his sexual fantasy with the pointed face of Draco Malfoy. He hadn’t seen the man often in the past nine years, since the war ended when they were nineteen. He would see him at functions; a few Quidditch matches were Malfoy chose to parade his newest sexual acquisition around for the world to see, and sometimes he could catch a flash of that pale hair in the crowded streets in Diagon Alley. 

The smile that had graced his face previously turned down, the frown pronounced and his eyebrows drawn together. He wanted to know what Malfoy was doing here, and why the hell the blond was looking at him like that, smirking and smug and eyes filled with something Harry couldn’t place. 

“Team, gather round,” Jack, the head coach for the Cannons said.

Harry glanced at his teammates and saw that they were just as confused as he was, which made him feel a little better, but no less wary. Resting the tail of his broom against the ground he leaned against it, waiting for Jack to continue. 

“As you are well aware the previous owner of the team has recently passed away, and as such the team has been up for sale. I know a few of you were considering pooling together your money when we came to realize that not many people were going to buy us, but luckily that won’t be a problem any more. Three weeks ago Mr. Malfoy approached our lawyer and after a few negotiations bought the Cannons. So, team, I’d like you to meet the new owner.”

He felt as if a bludger had just hit him in his stomach. This was his worst nightmare come true. Malfoy was now in charge of his team, the team he had spent the past seven years with. They were getting better, they actually had a chance this year at winning the Cup, and he was worried Malfoy was going to ruin it for him. 

“So what’s the deal, Malfoy?” he asked before he had a chance think about his words. 

“What deal Potter?” Malfoy replied smirking. 

He could see his coach glaring at him and for some reason he ignored it. “Why the Channons, weren’t the Kestrels enough for you?”

Malfoy’s smirk grew wider. “Frankly no, they kept winning and it was getting boring. I wanted something with a challenge.”

“That’s new, a Malfoy wanting to actually do something that merits a challenge. How are you going to win this one? Pay money to make the other teams lose, tell us to cheat?”

“Of course not, that would be unethical,” Malfoy said, the amusement dropping out of his eyes slightly. “I plan on re-outfitting this old, outdated pitch, as well as supplying new equipment and updating the robes.”

Harry blinked, listening as Malfoy continued to outline the details of his plans and he had to admit, he'd either thought about this very well, or someone had done it for him. He still wasn’t ready to admit that Malfoy might actually have something decent inside of him. The man was there for only one thing, and one thing only, to make money somehow. 

Eventually, Malfoy came to a halt and Harry could see the impressed looks on his teammates' faces and he sighed, rubbing his eyes. He was tired, he had gone to bed late and woken up early, and even then his sleep had been interrupted by the dream last night. He could see Malfoy looking at him expectantly and he sighed again, not wanting to deal with the blond right now. 

“Sounds good, Malfoy,” he replied his voice toneless. 

He could see a few accusing looks from his teammates daring him to try and create a situation where Malfoy would rescind his offer, but he didn’t care. It was common knowledge that outside of a year and a half during the war, the two of them had never gotten along. 

“Glad you think so, Potter,” Malfoy said with a smirk. 

Harry rolled his eyes, resting more fully against his broom, zoning out as Malfoy began to talk to the other people on the team. He briefly wondered how many more years until his contract expired. Then he remembered Ginny telling him that his contract was set to expire in a month or two, at the end of the season and he smiled to himself. 

“What’s so amusing, Potter?” Malfoy asked a cold, detached look on his face. 

“Nothing,” he replied. “Is practice over? I want to take a shower,” he asked, turning to look at his coach who after staring at him for a moment, nodded. 

He nodded to the rest of his teammates and clapped a few on the shoulder before throwing the broom over his shoulder and began walking to the shower room. He was determined to leave Malfoy behind him and continue on with his day and hoping it would turn out decent.

But there was no such luck for him today as he heard steps, softened by the grass, coming up behind him. He closed his eyes for a moment, briefly hoping that it wouldn’t be Malfoy coming to annoy him as usual. 

“Potter.”

There was no such luck in his world. He switch his hold on the broom so he could rest it on a shoulder and reached out with his other hand to open the door before Malfoy got there. He managed to get it open a couple of inches before a slender, pale hand slammed down on the door. Try as he might, he couldn’t keep the door open. It closed with a bang. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was tired and not in the mood to deal with the git today. 

“Yes Malfoy?” he asked through gritted teeth, not turning around, not wanting to see the blond standing there in all his sensual glory. 

“I just wanted to talk to you. It has been so long since our last rendezvous. I mean it’s been nine… _long_ years. Don’t you miss me?” Malfoy asked, pressing up behind him and speaking into his ear. 

Harry shivered and opened his eyes. Placing his own hand on the door and he used it to lever himself, pushing Malfoy back.. Unfortunately, Malfoy sidestepped Harry's push and he stumbled, falling to the ground. He groaned and fell back to the ground in tired defeat, his eyes squeezing tight against the glare of the sun. He tilted his head backwards, looking for some help from anyone, but he saw that they had all left. Which wasn’t unusual, he was the only one that chose to enter the shower room from the bottom entrance. Everyone else preferred to use the aerial entrance. 

“Poor, poor Harry, still as clumsy as ever?” Malfoy asked as Harry gained his feet . 

With a sigh, Harry looked down at his robes and brushed the dust of off them. He turned his had to look at Malfoy, who was now leaning against the door, arms and legs crossed, a single thin eyebrow arched, a small smirk dancing across his lips. He couldn’t stop the corner of his lip from curling into a sneer as he let out an annoyed breath through his nose. 

“Not really, no. Nine years wasn’t long enough,” he said eventually, his teeth clenched together tight enough to hurt his jaw. 

“Aww, I’m hurt, are you sure you didn’t miss me?” Malfoy asked, an innocent look on his face. 

“Positive,” he reaffirmed. 

Malfoy’s other eyebrow shot up giving him a shocked, wide-eyed look before his face smoothed out into his perpetual look of indifference. The blond pushed himself off the door and took a few steps closer until the two of them were only a few centimeters apart. Harry watched as he raised his hand, loosely curling three fingers and a thumb into a fist, his pointer finger resting on the corner of Harry's temple. He took stock still as Malfoy drew a light caress down the side of his face, running his finger across Harry's bottom lip before moving down his neck, down the middle of his chest, until finally, the finger hooked into the belt of his Quidditch pants. 

Harry's breath stuttered for a moment before he evened it out. He went slightly cross-eyed as Malfoy leaned in until their noses touched and their breath mingled in the scant millimeters that separated their mouths. 

“That hurt Potter." 

He could feel Malfoy’s lips moving, caressing his own. His mind was screaming for him to move away, to turn around and fly off to the entrance at the top of the building, but the wires between his brain and his body short-circuited. He stood there frozen as Malfoy moved his hand across his hip, thumb pressing into the spot below his belly button and fingers pressing against his groin. 

Taking a deep breath, Harry could smell the citrus and cologne that made up Malfoy’s scent, and scowled, forcing himself to calm down. He rolled his eyes and leaned back so he could look at Malfoy. “I’m thinking the answer is still a no, Malfoy, I don’t miss you. Now kindly toss off and let go of me.”

Malfoy had the gall to look surprised, but didn’t move except for a subtle squeezing of his hand. “Aren’t you going to play nice, Potter? I do sign your paychecks."

Harry's breath stuttered for a moment when he felt the light caress on his cock and he screamed for his body parts to move, but they remained frozen. He took another deep breath through his nose, forcing himself to think of Hagrid and his wife in various compromising positions to calm himself down before he spoke again. “My contract expires in two months, and besides, if you fire me without due cause, I get four million galleons in reparation.” 

Malfoy frowned at his words, a thoughtful look on his face. “Then I guess I have two months to try to change your mind,” he said with a harder squeeze. 

“Nothing will change my mind, Malfoy,” he said with a sneer, glaring at the blond. 

“You know, I always knew you had pretty eyes, but when you get mad they get all flashy and slightly gold tinted and it’s hot,” Malfoy replied leaning in to lick his cheek, right under his eye. 

Harry raised a hand, scrubbing under his eye where Malfoy licked him. He attempted to take a step back, but Malfoy only gripped his cock harder. He felt the fingers squeeze and let go, in an ever steady pattern and the finger caught on his hem, dropping deeper. He could feel his pants slip down his hips and he wanted to move, to run away from there.

Malfoy pressed his other hand against Harry's chest and before Harry knew it, he was pressed against the wall with a pair of lips sliding against his own. He opened his mouth to protest, but Malfoy's wicked tongue slid into his mouth, moving with skill across his own and causing him to gasp. He wanted to argue, to demand Malfoy stop, but it felt good, and he really couldn’t see the harm in it at his point. Harry geared himself up to respond when Malfoy pulled back with a small nip at his bottom lip and ran his tongue over the bite a few times. Then he caught Harry's lip between two rows of perfect teeth and tugged it into his hot mouth. Harry moaned against his will and he opened his eyes, looking at Malfoy, whose gaze made him squirm and his cock throb. 

After Malfoy releases his lips, Harry steeled himself to speak, but a soft press of those mischievous lips on his neck swiped all of his words away A hint of teeth nipped along his neck, a tender scrape over skin that sent fire into the nerve endings. He arched into the feeling, his resolve beginning to shatter and fall. Malfoy opened his mouth wider and sucked on Harry's skin. Harry pressed his hand against Malfoy's chest, intent on pushing the man away. Unfortunately, his brain, that said to keep his palm and fingers open, ready to push the blond far, far away, was overruled and his fingers curled gently into the expensive material and held on, drawing the man closer. 

“You’re,” he began only to stop and swallow when Malfoy bit down and his hand on Harry's groin squeezed. “You’re in my personal space,” he tried lamely. 

He felt the chuckle under his palm the moment before it rumbled out of Malfoy’s lips and caressed his skin. Malfoy released his neck and Harry breathed a sigh of relief only for it to stutter to a stop as Malfoy's teeth latched onto the lobe of his ear and tugged gently. 

“You’re not playing fair,” he tried again. Malfoy knew that his ears were sensitive, they always had been. Even gentle breath caused shivers to run down his spine, each of them stronger than before. He attempted to swallow the lump forming in his throat but he was unable to and he finally allowed his eyes to close again, relaxing against the blond, his head lolling to the side as his ear lobe was worried between Malfoy's skilled teeth. The nerve endings in his ear screamed in pleasure. His breath quickened and the hand curled in Malfoy’s shirt tightened as his mind fought with his body. 

“You like it,” Malfoy whispered in his ear, his breath hot and full of sin, causing a shiver to run down his spine at the unexpected thrill. “You still want me don’t you?”

“N-n-no I don’t,” Harry replied, heat rising in his cheeks as he swallowed trying to gain a sense of being. He would not allow this, not again. 

“Yes, you do,” Malfoy said taking another step forward, pressing Harry against the wall, harder and harder, their bodies aligned from shoulders to hips, from hips to knees.

Harry's hand was trapped between their bodies and he could feel Malfoy’s erection pressed against his hip, right next to where Malfoy was still rubbing his cock slowly. It was maddening and he wanted more. The blond moved his hips slightly and flashes of pleasure shot through Harry's spine as the movement caused the pressure on his cock to increase. He gasped and closed his eyes, desperate to try and gain some control in this situation. It had been nine years since they were lovers, since Malfoy had cheated on him, nine years and he should be over the bastard. His heart had already been broken once, shouldn’t that be enough for him to move on?. 

The thought cleared his lust-fogged mind and he moved his head back, looking at the man who had him trapped against the wall. Harry closed his eyes against the sight, Malfoy's eyes burning with desire, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, and turned his head away knowing he would lose the fight if he looked at Malfoy anymore. 

“P-p-please don’t,” he whispered as Malfoy began to grind his hips a little harder into his own. His hips arched without his permission and a small whimper escaped his lips. He shook his head slightly as the memory of walking in on Malfoy and Fred flashed across his mind and it was enough to break the spell. He pushed Malfoy away, causing him to stumble. Harry was panting, flushed and he wanted nothing more than to pull the bastard back against him and to shag him right then and there. Malfoy took a step forward but Harry's hand on his chest stopped his forward assault. 

“Stop,” he said. Malfoy looked defiant, as if he was going to take another step forward, trying to get closer. 

“You don’t want me to stop,” Malfoy challenged with a pointed look at the bulge in his jeans. 

“Yes I do, just fuck off,” he said, a slightly pleading note in his voice. 

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at this and leaned against the wall again. “Are you sure, you used to love it.”

“That was nine years ago, Malfoy,” he said, his voice growing a little more steady with each moment.

“And now it can be today if you let it be,” Malfoy replied inspecting his nails absently. 

Harry sighed inwardly, getting annoyed. The lust had dissipated and he was feeling disgusted with himself over this pointless display he had allowed himself to be drawn into. He just wanted to shower, and get home to sit in front of the telly and turn into a vegetable.“I don’t want it to be,” he said plaintively. 

“Why not?” Malfoy asked, stepping until they were chest to chest once more. Only this time anger and a challenge were in Malfoy’s eyes, daring him to refuse, daring him to turn and walk away once more. 

A sudden thought dawned on him. “This is not going to help change my mind about the contract,” he said softly, taking the challenge. 

He was sure he saw Malfoy stiffen for a moment but then it passed and the blond was as cool and collected as he always was. 

“What makes you think I’m here for the contract?” Malfoy asked, stepping back, a facade of cool pureblooded arrogance chilling the air around them.

“What you said before, you said you would try and convince me. And honestly Malfoy, there is really nothing else you can give me besides sex, and I don’t want that from you anymore. I’ve been there, I’ve done that, and now that I think about it, it wasn’t that great,” he said gaining confidence as moments passed. 

Malfoy scowled and Harry saw a flash of anger in those quicksilver eyes and fought down the triumphant glee inside of his chest. An angry Malfoy never wanted sex, and he wanted the blond as angry as possible. 

“Who the fuck are you kidding? I was the best you probably ever had. Perhaps the only person you’ve ever had. Sad little Potter sitting home each year during Valentine's, Beltane, all alone in the world,” Malfoy hissed out, hands and teeth clenching. 

Anger surged up inside of Harry and he clenched his hands. “Fuck off you little piece of shit. I've had boyfriends and they're ten times what you're, both in looks, sex and personality.”

“I am worth a hundred of them,” Malfoy hissed out, arrogance twisting his pleasant features into an ugly spectacle. 

“Perhaps in money, but in nothing else and it will never change. Malfoy, you may be rich, but you are just the sad little daddy’s boy you have always been.”

Malfoy scowled, anger staining his cheeks a dark red as he pushed Harry snug against the wall. Harry raised his hands, fingers curling around Malfoy’s biceps. He could feel the muscles shifting under his palm and dug his nails into the flesh of his arm, wanting to go through fabric, flesh and bone until he hit nerves. He wanted to draw a scream of pure pain out of the blond, if only for a moment. He raised his eyes, meeting Malfoy’s, watching the flashing gray maelstrom, watching as blue peaked and disappeared, anger, lust and want all there, for him to see and dissect.

He swallowed a feeling of elation at knowing he had pressed the right buttons. He wanted Malfoy angry; he wanted them to walk away from that overpowering lust that still held control of them even years later. 

However, that thought was short lived as Malfoy’s eyes calmed down until they were once more an unruffled ocean of emotionless gray and the blond took a step Malfoy took a deep breath and then another, arms moving to cross over his chest in a lazy, and obviously practiced, gesture. A smirk twisted the corner of those pale pink lips and Harry pushed himself from the wall, his own coral coloured lips in a thin line of anger and confusion. 

“Who’ve you been dating then? Weasel? I’m sure he’d turn over and offer his ass in the end? The filthy mudblood? Well, then again she is a prude. How about the Weaslette? She always held a torch for you, I'm sure she’d spread her thighs for you. Perhaps one of the other Weasley’s, I bet they’d all love to bend over backwards for you. What about one of your millions on fans, they’d all love to say they slept with the Great Harry Potter. How much did you have to pay them to keep quiet about it?” Malfoy asked, keeping his voice as low and as venom filled as possible. 

Anger washed over Harry and he took a step forward, his fingers curling into the blue fabric once more, wanting to rip and tear the man in front of him. His fingers tightened, his knuckles stark white against the darkness of the robe. Harry jerked Malfoy towards him, causing him to stumble forward.. He could see those eyes, and those perfectly formed lips that were twisted into something ugly right up close and he fought the sudden urge to lick, kiss and suck at them until they were slack with pleasure. 

“Shut the fuck up, you slimly little inbred ferret. What I do with my life is none of your concern. You lost that right nine years ago when I walked in on you fucking Fred. You have no control over my life, and when these two months are up, I am going to leave. I am sure one of the other teams would love to have me; I’ve had a few offers for a couple of the other teams. Did you know that Puddlemere’s seeker is retiring at the end of his season? Maybe I’ll take his spot. Then where will this team be? In the drain, that’s for sure. We’re last, dead last,” he hissed out, shaking the blond. 

Malfoy slid his fingers between Harry's hands and the fabric of his robes and began to pry his fingers open. Harry held tighter at first, wanting to shake Malfoy until the slimly little ferret's neck broke and there were no more Malfoys in the world, but then he felt those nails dig in and he released his hands with a small whimper of pain. 

He could see the superior smirk on Malfoy’s face and he grunted, placing his hands against Malfoy’s chest once again, and before the blond had a chance to process a single though he pushed, causing Malfoy to stumble back and trip over Harry's carelessly discarded broom, falling to the ground. An amused smirk crossed his lips as he looked at the position Malfoy was in, similar to the one he had been in moments before. 

Malfoy looked up at him annoyed and angry before he stood up and brushed off his robes. “You’re just scared,” the blond said, his voice clear and loud even though he looked down. 

That was the breaking point for him. “I don’t need you, I don’t give a fuck what you say, I am leaving,” he finished with a growl. 

Malfoy had a slightly panicked look on his face for a moment before the full blown sneer was back on his face and his nose turned up slightly, nostrils flaring as if there were a bad smell in the air. 

“Just keep thinking that Potter, just keep thinking. By the end of these two months I’ll have your life signed away to this team, with no chance of leaving. You’ll be here when you are a hundred and riddled with arthritis,” Malfoy threatened, his voice a low hiss.

“I won’t sign a damn thing that had your name on it anywhere you arrogant wanker,” he said before shoving past the blond, ignoring the grunt of pain and opened the door and moved inside, making sure to lock it behind him. 

He ignored the yells of protest as he moved further down the hallway, desperate for a shower and a nap. This day had not started out well. 

_April 30th 2008 11:29 AM_

He arrived back at his flat an hour later, washed and still seething. He threw his practice gear into the corner of his room before collapsing onto his bed with a grunt. He lay there for a moment before he let out a short scream of frustration, rolling onto his stomach and pounding at his bed. The aristocratic blond was the only one who had ever been able to get under his skin and this time was no different. It wasn’t fair that the blond had to be so sexy, and so sexual, he couldn’t help himself. 

He had been in love with the stupid arrogant twat nine years ago, only to have his heart torn out and fed to a Hippogriff when he had walked in on Malfoy and Fred going at it like lions in heat in the middle of their bed. He couldn’t be mad at Fred either, no one knew the two of them were dating and when everyone found out (because he had yelled at Malfoy in the middle of the meeting room, outing himself and the fact the two of them were dating) Fred had apologized and said he didn’t know, and if he had then he wouldn’t have done anything. 

He let out another loud scream; this time muffled into his pillow. He took a deep breath and rolled over, pounding his fists into the bed a few more times for good measure before crossing his arms over his chest. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to spend anytime with Malfoy, and he knew he would be spending a lot of time if Malfoy was serious about fixing up the Cannons. He loved flying for the Cannons, although they never won they were fun to hang around with, they knew how to have a good time. 

The door opened and he sat up, some part of him afraid that Malfoy had found out where he had lived and was coming to annoy him further but he sighed when he caught sight of his roommate lounging against the door. 

“I thought you were dying,” George said with a grin. 

Harry scowled. “Go to hell. I’ve had a bad day.”

George’s smile dimmed slightly and he moved until he was sitting on the edge of the bed. “What happened, mate?”

“Malfoy happened,” he shot out. 

“What did he do now?” A slightly worried frown sat on the redhead's face, obviously remembering the last time Malfoy had been in their lives. 

He growled sitting up and wrapping an arm around George’s neck and bringing the redhead in for a kiss, needing some kind of release. Initially, George was stiff, but then he relaxed into the kiss and it grew faster and hotter. This wasn’t an unusual event, during times they were both single, they would often sleep with each other, no strings attached. He kept his grip around George’s neck before he leaned back dragging the redhead down and over him, his legs spreading and hips canting up, wanting to forget about his day. George grasped his hip and the kiss deepened before he mouthed Harry's neck, nibbling and needing out his worry. Harry relaxed into the caress, trying to forget. 

It wasn't long until the two of them lay gasping, side by side, the stench of sweat and sex heavy in the air. He ran a hand over his face, pushing his sweat soaked hair back from his face as he swallowed repeatedly. He was relaxed, but the image of Malfoy pressing against him and the occasional flash of his dream from last night had been on the forefront of his mind the entire time. He let out a groan and George looked over at him, slightly concerned, but the redhead remained quiet. 

“Are you going to tell me what happened with Malfoy now?” George asked still panting slightly. 

“He bought the Cannons, that’s what,” he shot, screaming in frustration, causing all of the tension to return. 

“So? You guys have proper funding now, and might actually win a game.”

“That’s not the point. The point is that he came into my life, into my sanctuary and ruined it for me. My contract expires in two months and I was going to sign again, but then Malfoy came into the picture and now I don’t want to, but he’s going to try and convince me to stay and I don’t want to. And then he proceeded to molest me outside of the locker room in order to convince me. Then he had the nerve to kiss me and tell me he was the best I ever had, which is not true, and then he said he would have me begging to sign away the rest of my Quidditch career to this team by the end of the two months.” He paused to take a deep breath, catching sight of the slightly amused look on George’s face. “And then he proceeded to insult me and all you guys and he is such a prat and how can something that attractive have the worst personality ever! Arrgh! I hate him so much!”

George was grinning at this point and Harry watched as he draped himself across Harry's body, his chin resting on Harry's chest, effectively smothering him in freckles and skin. 

“You still love him, then?” George asked, his blue eyes serious. 

He opened his mouth about to defend himself before it closed, his brow drawing into a frown as he thought about the question. He didn’t know if he still loved the blond, he knew he still thought Malfoy was hot, but other that that it was just a jumble of hate, lust, want and anger. There was little room for anything else; he was too wound up to think properly at this point. 

“I,” he began, only to close his mouth again, the line between his brows deepening as he began to chew on his bottom lip.

He could see George looking at him amused and Harry raised a hand to run it through the short hair that separated him from his twin. George turned his head, letting his cheek press against Harry's chest and he rested his hand on George's head, his fingers massaging gently as he bit the inside of his lips. 

“I have no clue,” he said eventually, his forehead furrowed in confusion. “I mean he’s hot, but that’s about it, I can’t think of anything else about him I like. I don’t think ever I loved him though, but I do think I was in the midst of getting there.”

“He can be amusing though, when he gets that pinched look on his face,” George pointed out. 

Harry grinned. “He can be amusing, and believe it or not, he can be nice.”

“Malfoy? Nice?” George snorted. “I’ll believe it when I see Voldemort doing Swan Lake in a tutu.”

“I think I’d be soft for life after seeing that,” he said beginning to feel more upbeat. 

“I think we would have a sudden drop in the number of babies in the world, and an increase in the demand for stomach settling potions,” George said before laughing.

He smacked the redhead on the side of the head lightly. “Naff off, prat.”

“Now, onto more fun things because Malfoy is a prat and we can deal without him.”

He pouted. “Fine. Are you coming with me tomorrow to Liath Earrach?” 

George shook his head. “No, I have a date believe it or not.”

He sat up suddenly, dislodging George and causing the redhead to flop to the side. “Why didn’t you tell me? I never would’ve done this if I had known.”

“Don’t worry, he knows you, and I told him that we’ve slept together,” George said placing a hand on his shoulder and pressing him back down. 

He went somewhat unwillingly. “Who is it?” he asked gnawing on his bottom lip again. 

“Seamus,” George replied. 

“Finnigan?” Harry asked incredulously. 

“Yeah, turns out he’s gay.”

“No surprise there, but good luck mate. He’ll drink you into a stupor and still manage to pass a breath analyzer.” 

George smacked him on the stomach before he sat up and stretched. “I’m going to shower, you coming?”

He shook his head. “Na, I’m going to take a long bath, I have the day off and I intended to relax, and then decide if I actually want to go to Liath tomorrow night.”

“You should, it’ll take your mind of off Malfoy,” George said getting up and beginning to pick up his clothes. 

Harry pushed himself up, resting on his elbows as he watched the redhead. “Fine, I’ll go, but I’m borrowing your dress slacks. They look better on me anyway.”

“Good, I’m borrowing the blue dress shirt of yours tomorrow night then,” George spoke up from where he was leaning against the doorway. 

“Fine with me,” he said pushing himself up and off the bed, watching as George grinned at him one more time before walking off to go do whatever it was he did. 

“Muffet,” he called out waiting for the telltale sound of the pop before continuing. “Could you please run the bath and then clean this room up. Also I’d like to have lunch in about an hour and a half so could you please make it?”

The little house elf who appeared looked up at him with wide brown eyes, her ears perked up waiting for him to finish before nodding. “Yes Master Harry Potter, sir. Is sirs wanting a smells in the baths?”

“Just the Fig and Acacia, please, with some of the muscle relaxant and calming salts,” he said with a smile. 

“Yes sirs, it be ready in five minutes, sirs,” Muffet said before disappearing with a crack. 

He sat there for a moment before grabbing the robe that hung on the corner of his bed and threw it on. He walked into the bathroom, smiling gratefully as the scents and heat washed over him. Placing his clothes and robe over the sink he stepped inside of the overly large tub and sunk down slowly.

He relaxed with a sigh, his head dropping back and his arms spreading out to the side, resting on the rim. He took a deep breath, the aroma filled his nostrils as he allowed the salts to work their way through his body, relaxing each muscle and sending him farther and farther into bliss. He turned his head to the side, stretching out his neck and the kinks in it. Opening his eyes he watched as the steam rose from the bath tub. He began to swirl his hands in the water, moving the bubbles that filled tub out of the way so he could see his skin shining brown through the water. 

He looked up at the sound of a pop and frowned slightly as he caught sight of Muffet standing there, her hands twisting around her towel in nervousness. He raised an eyebrow waiting for her to speak. 

“Muffet is sorry Master Harry Potter, sirs, but I couldn’t stop Master Weasley from coming here, he says it’s important,” Muffet said, her ears drooping and her eyes wide, looking for some sort of reassurance. 

He sighed. “Don’t worry about it. Master Weasley is rude and obnoxious, that’ll be all.”

“Hey, I resent that,” Ron said with a grin as he walked in. Muffet shot him a withering look before popping out again. 

“You are a great big ogre, you know?” he asked, sinking into the bath a little more, watching as Ron rolled his eyes and moved to sit on the sink, leaning against the medicine cabinet.

“No I’m not,” Ron replied. 

“You know, if you keep on coming in here when I’m naked Pansy is going to have your head,” Harry said splashing water around. 

“Actually she wants me to take pictures,” Ron said with a grin. 

“Did you conveniently forget to mention about you and I during seventh year?” he asked with a grin. 

“Yes, she’d demand a repeat and would want to tape it to sell to make more money to buy her cosmetics.”

“Doesn’t she make her own?”

“Yeah, but she needs to buy the ingredients.”

He opened his mouth about to reply when suddenly there was a loud pop and Hermione stood there, all frizzy hair and rumpled clothes, as if she had just woken up and came here immediately. 

“You know, this is the reason those threesome rumors started. You guys just barge in here all the time when I’m naked, normal people would wait a few moments until I was decent,” he said with a slight grin to negate his sever tone. 

“Oh pish posh, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before, I’ve got my own,” Ron said with a wave of his hand. 

“Budge over,” Hermione said, moving to sit on counter on the other side of the sink. “And like Ron said, it’s nothing we haven’t seen before. Ron a little more intimately than me, but nonetheless. It’s like six degrees of Harry Potter. I dated Ron, Ron and you shagged.”

“Is nothing in my life sacred?” he asked sarcastically. 

“No, now what is this about?” Hermione asked holding up the newspaper that suddenly appeared in her hands. 

“What’s what? I don’t have my glasses on,” he asked squinting at the newspaper. Some part of him had already guessed that they wanted to talk about Malfoy buying the Cannons. 

“This thing with the Cannons,” Ron supplied. 

He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Malfoy, for some inane reason, decided to buy the Cannons. Don’t know why, we never win a game.”

“And?” Hermione pressed. 

“And my contract expires in two months.” he said, not wanting to relive the days events just as he was beginning to relax again. 

“And?” Ron asked and he decided that Ron had been spending too much time with Hermione. 

“And… he wants me to renew, so he told me he was going to make me sign again and then he preceded to bite and suck at my neck and earlobe before I pushed him away and left.”

The room was silent and he looked up at his friends who were both staring at him with blank looks. He shifted slightly, uncomfortable under the weight of their stares. 

“So Harry…do you still like him?” Hermione asked eventually. 

“No?” he asked, unsure of what the answer was. He could see Ron lean back a little more and relax, letting Hermione question him. The bastard. 

“You do, you still like it,” Ron said with triumph and certainty in his voice. 

“Him, Ronald, Malfoy is not an it,” Hermione chided. “And do you like him or not. It’s rude to answer a question with a question.”

Harry grinned a little and rolled his eyes. “I dunno. I mean the man is sex on wheels, I won’t disagree with that, but he also has the temperament of a dragon who just got Crucioed, and he has no filter between his mind and his mouth… and I’m sure his heart is pure stone.”

“So, sleep with him, get more money and then move on,” Ron said shrugging a shoulder. 

Harry raised an eyebrow at his best friend who was sitting there so calmly, talking about Malfoy as if it were George or Bill and not a mortal enemy. “Been there, done that, or have we forgotten last time.”

“You know it wasn’t Fred's fault,” Hermione said. “And besides, he’s married to what's-her-face.”

“Megan Oddswaddle,” Ron replied.

“Yes Megan, horrible girl if I’ve ever seen one. Always making rude comments and their behavior at the last Post-Quidditch season bash you had, horrendous,” Hermione said. 

Harry grinned when he remembered the looks on everyone’s faces when Fred and Megan had rolled out from under the table, naked and going at it like dogs in heat. 

“’Mione, my best friend in the entire world. We’re sitting in Harry’s bathroom talking to him while he’s taking a bath,” Ron said with a grin. “I’m pretty sure people would be shocked if they knew we did this.”

Hermione sniffed. “That’s not the point. This isn’t in public, only the three of us know that this happens now and then.”

“God Hermione, you’re making it sound like we’re having some illicit affair behind everyone’s back,” Harry said with a shiver. 

Hermione looked offended. “What would be the problem with that?”

“Well A, I don’t like women, B, Pansy sounds like a hag when she’s mad and C, Charlie could and would rip me into numerous pieces and use me as feed for those damn dragons of his,” he replied. 

“Charlie would never do that. He’s just a little protective that’s all,” she said. 

“Pansy doesn’t mind,” Ron said with a grin. 

“You told her!” Hermione shrieked. 

“Well yeah, and now she wants pictures,” Ron said rolling his eyes. 

“She is the slut of Slytherin,” Harry pointed out. “I think I’m the only man that didn’t get her chops around.”

Ron grimaced. “Need you remind me? And could you stop talking about my wife that way. I mean I know you guys don’t like her, but seriously, come on, I love her and that should be enough."

“We’re sorry,” he said. 

“I’m not. I’m never going to forgive her you know,” Hermione said. 

“That was six years ago,” Ron said exasperated. 

“And I don’t care, she shouldn’t have called me a gold digging, attention seeking, know it all who was such a tight ass that it was a wonder I could get a tampon up there.”

Ron gagged. “Please don’t mention the unmentionables; they are something I am never going to think about it.”

Hermione looked huffy. “Fine.”

Harry grinned, shifting in the water and lifting up a hand, looking at the wrinkled skin on his fingers. The water was beginning to get a little cold and he figured he should get out. 

“Hey, pass me my robe would you?” he asked, moving to sit up on his knees. 

Hermione shifted, pulling the robe out from under her and handing it to him. He braced a hand on the edge of the tub and reached over, grabbing it tightly, not wanting to drop it. He had fallen out of the tub once doing that, him with a bruised forehead and a headache and the two of them laughing at him and almost falling off the vanity. 

Drawing the robe back to him he opened it up, shielding himself from their view and stood up, stepping out of the tub before wrapping it around his body, covering his nakedness up. Dressing himself in the robe with them watching had been an art form he had perfected over the past four years, since Hermione and Ron had gotten married in a double wedding. It had been a shock the first time Hermione had showed up with Ron on her tail and walked in on him in the bath. He had been mortified to say the least, but he got the hang of it eventually. 

“Prude,” Hermione teased. 

“Tight ass,” he shot back glaring at her. 

“She’s right you know, it’s nothing we haven’t seen before,” Ron spoke up, the corner of his lips tilting up into a smile. 

“I don’t care,” he replied. They had only seen his bits once each - Ron the one time when they had been drunk, horny and on a three week mission with no company except for a few goats and each other, and Hermione when she had walked in on him wanking – and he wasn’t about to make it a third time for the both of them. “I need to get dressed, mind waiting for me in the living room?”

“Not a problem mate, is George about? I want to ask him something,” Ron asked moving off the sink counter and standing, his arms drawing over his head and stretching himself out. 

“Yeah, I think he’s in his room,” he said opening the door and waiting for his friends to walk out before heading to the bedroom to change. 

Two minutes later he walked out dressed in a pair of jeans and an oversized sweater, his hands running through his hair attempting to tame it. Moving into the living room he frowned when he saw it was empty. Turning he spotted his friends in the kitchen and remembered he had ordered food. 

As if by magic his stomach grumbled and he walked into the kitchen and sat down, a smile crossing his face when the plate filled with eggs, bacon, tomatoes, mushrooms and hash browns. Picking up his fork he breathed deeply, smelling the delicious food before taking a bite. 

“So mate, what are you going to do about Malfoy?” Ron asked. 

He looked up at his friends who had oddly blank looks on their faces and he shrugged. “Deal with him I supposed, and then after the two months either retire or move to another team.”

“You love the Cannons,” Hermione said looking at him sympathetically. 

“I know, and unless Malfoy has a total turn around and is going to be nice and we ride off into the sunset riding Unicorns that spread cheer and happy happy joy joy and we live in a big house with millions of children we adopted from all around the world, I don’t have a choice.”

Ron snorted in amusement at that. “OK, so maybe Malfoy’s a tool and won’t change, even Pansy said that he’s never going to settle down. One of the Malfoy cousins will end up taking the fortune; maybe Tonk’s will take it. She’s married to Snape remember.”

He grimaced. “Merlin, how could I forget, that was an odd wedding.”

Hermione grinned. “I thought it was sweet, they are oddly perfect for each other. She’s so carefree and upbeat and he’s….not.”

“Yes, perfect for each other,” he said rolling his eyes. “Can we please stop talking about Malfoy?”

“Fine. Are you going to that disgusting club tomorrow night?” Hermione asked, her opinion on the club written clearing on her face in case he hadn't heard her words. 

He shrugged. “I’m planning on going. I haven’t met the perfect man yet.”

“You won’t meet the dream guy by going to those clubs,” Ron said speaking up. 

“Need I remind you that you met your wife at a club?” he asked. 

“That’s different, I knew Pansy from school. Not like she was a stranger. Well she was, but I knew who she was before she asked me to dance and before it led to other…things. So it is completely different and she’s sweet,” Ron defended himself. 

He snorted. “The dragon I fought with is sweet as well.”

“Fuck off,” Ron growled. 

He rolled his eyes. “Can we stop talking about my sex life, or lack there of, please?”

“You know we love you Harry -”

“-So those threesome rumors were true?” George asked walking into the room a grin on his face. 

He shot a look at Hermione and rolled his eyes. “Told you there were rumors,” he muttered under his breath. 

“Well I knew that, but that is beside the point. As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” she replied with a pointed stare at George who grinned sheepishly. “We love you and we are worried about you. This sleeping around cannot be good for you, what’s going to come of it?”

“Pleasure,” he replied before she had a chance to continue, earning a scathing look from Hermione. 

“No, heartbreak and you are going to be old and alone and a mean cantankerous little shit head,” she finished her tone vehement, but full of love at the same time. 

“’Mione, don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine, promise. I won’t go next year ok? Just let me go this year without a lecture, who knows, maybe I’ll meet Dexter’s long lost cousin and fall madly in love,” he said a pleading note in his voice. 

He caught sight of George rolled his eyes and Ron holding up his pinky and he scowled. He was not wrapped around Hermione’s pinky. 

“Fine, this last year, and then no more. Who is going with you?” she asked, rolling her eyes again at him. 

“Dexter. And George was going to go, but then he changed his mind, the little bugger,” he said with a scowl. 

“Hey, I’ve a date, I’m excused,” George said holding up his hands. “Which leads me to the reason I came in here, could you maybe please not come back tomorrow night.”

“Getting lucky?”

“Nope, I’m making dinner and having you in here would be too weird,” George said with a simpering smile. 

Harry frowned and signed. He looked thoughtful for a while, leaving George hanging on the edge before he nodded. “Fine, I shall either rent a room, or end up at one of their houses.”

“Thanks mate,” George said standing up and disappearing back into the upper rooms.

He rolled his eyes and turned to look at Ron and Hermione who looked amused by the entire proceedings. It was a testament to how well the two of them knew him, the fact they were able to sit there, in silence while he and George discussed whatever they would discuss, and then not ask the burning question of who as soon as George was gone. 

“Seamus,” he said in reply to their unanswered question. 

A look of understanding passed over their features. Hermione grinned after a moment, and Ron followed soon after and it took a moment for Harry to catch onto why they were grinning before he began to giggle, and then Ron joined in with his deep chuckle, followed by Hermione’s higher laughing lilt. 

“Remember sixth year?” Ron asked through his chuckles, referring to the time Seamus had drunkenly confessed to wanting to have sex with George, and not Fred because Fred had a weird name and George’s name was hotter to say in a moan. 

“Remember the next morning?” he asked. The three of them had somehow ended up sprawled across the same bed with Seamus wanking next to them. 

“Sounds like George’s work is going to be cut out for him,” Hermione said sending the three of them off into peals of laughter. 

“Oh God, I needed that,” Ron said when they had managed to stop laughing. 

“So did I,” Harry said leaning back in his chair. “So you guys want to head to a movie or something? I heard they’re playing Decade Days down at Cinema 7, all the best from 1998, Rush Hour, Deep Impact, Armageddon, The Waterboy, Godzilla, and much more.”

“Sounds good to me, Mione?” Ron asked. 

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment. “Sounds good. But I have to get back by nine, Charlie’s coming home from the reservation for the night.”

He nodded. “Let’s go then.”

_May 1st 2008 8:52 PM_

He turned in the mirror one more time, posing to make sure he outfit was ok, a black button down shirt, black slacks and a pair of comfortable shoes. The pants were a little long and they hung off his hips, threatening to slide at any moment. They were his roommate's and since George was an inch or so taller than he was, they didn’t fit quite right. He didn’t mind though, he had never really liked tight clothing; no matter how many times George or Dexter tried to force him into form fitting outfits. It wasn’t him; even the shirt was too much. He glanced at his draws, wanting to tear the stiff fabric off his body and grab one of his soft, warm shirts that he knew he could sweat in and still be comfortable.

A voice floated up from downstairs, “Potter you prick, we’re running late.”

“Fuck off Dexter. It doesn’t matter what time we get there,” he yelled back, moving to lean over the railing to look down into the living room.

“I know, I just don’t want to be late,” the six foot tall, ex-rugby player with brown hair and eyes replied, smiling cheekily back up at him.

“Fucker, let's go,” he said moving to the stairs and walking down.

“I love your house, did I ever tell you that?” Dexter asked when he reached the bottom.

He grinned. “Numerous times, trust me,” he said with a sign of annoyance, when he was anything but. He loved his house as well, it was an old renovated barn with the bottom half made into a living room and a kitchen and the top had been split into three parts, two rooms with an oversized bathroom connecting them.

“Flooing or what?” Dexter asked holding out his hand for Harry to take.

“Flooing,” Harry replied grabbing the offered hand and dragging Dexter to the Floo.

“But my pants,” Dexter cried out, planting his feet, jerking Harry back.

Harry turned and glared, flicking his fingers at Dexter. “There, problem solved. A little repelling spell and you’re good.”

Dexter grinned. “Thank you sweetie, now let's go.”

Harry rolled his eyes but smiled back at his friend and allowed himself to be dragged this time to the fireplace and through the fire arriving at the club after a few disorientating spins.

“God, I hate that,” Harry muttered when he found he could stand back up without feeling as if he was going to lose everything he had eaten since 1997.

“So do I, now, let’s go party,” Dexter said, grinning wildly. Harry returned the grin as Dexter grabbed his hand and dragged him straight to where the punch was.

Harry studied the punch, examined the smell and color, trying to see if there was anything wrong with it. He didn’t want a repeat of last year. He couldn’t see anything different between his glass and Dexter’s, so he took a cautious sip. It didn’t taste any different. He could see Dexter looking at him oddly and so he managed a sheepish smile and downed the rest of it in a large mouthful. He placed the glass back down and winced at the burn the vodka left in the back of his throat.

It took a moment before he could feel himself become blessedly free, his inhibitions slipping away and he smiled at Dexter, noting the fogged, but happy gaze of his friend. Dexter smiled at him and grabbed Harry's hand, dragging him to the doors that lead to the forest.

Harry pulled on Dexter's hand before they had a chance to separate, something George had asked coming to the forefront of his mind. “Can I crash at your place tonight?”

Dexter looked confused for a moment before smiling dreamily and nodding. “Of course you can mate, only the best for my best.”

Harry grinned and released the hand he had a death grip on. Dexter nodded to him before he disappeared into the forest leaving him by the door feeling happy and completely in control. He turned and looked at the group of people lingering behind him, looking at the punch warily and he smiled. Turning back he stepped into the forest, heading for the clearing he knew to be at the right of the entrance, where everyone went to dance.

As he wandered through the forest, he dragged his hand over the tree trunks, feeling the silky cool moss and the rough bark catch and caress his fingers. His smile widened, teeth showing between his lips as he caught sight of the fire flickering through the trees. He sped his steps up wanting to get closer, wanting to dance.

He stepped into the clearing and the crowd swallowed him, men and women writhing around each other to the beat of music that seemed to come out of thin air. He felt people press up to either side of him and begin to dance and he began to move with them, rubbing his hips against theirs, his eyes half closed and vision hazy. He breathed in deep, the smell of pine and wood smoke invading his lungs and settling there, filling him with an even further sense of calm. He felt the pounding drum reverberate around the air and sink into his chest until it was beating with his head. 

_thump…thump…thump_

A hand grasped his hip and pulled him against a body behind him. The fingers felt long as the other hand came to run across his stomach, moving under his shirt, unbuttoning it slowly from the bottom, one by one until his chest was exposed to the night air. He tilted his head back, his eyes falling completely shut as he gave over to the sensation of the cool hand against his warm skin.

The hand on his hip moved, a thumb hooking over the button in his pants and the rest of his fingers splayed out across the rapidly growing bulge in his pants. Lips pressed against his neck and he tilted his head to the side with a smile, hips still moving to the beat. One hand moved, running over his nipples and he gasped, his back arching slightly as the finger pinched the little nub lightly at the same time as the other hand squeezed him, making him arch even more.

He swallowed back a cry of pleasure as a gust of wind blew though the clearing, the cool wind brushing over his skin like another set of hands. He could feel silky hair slid over his face and he raised a hand, wrapping it around the neck of the person behind them. His arm tightening slightly, the hint of teeth that had appeared on his neck becoming harder, more real and he moaned, his chest beginning to heave. The hand on his crotch moved, fingers sliding into his pants, thumb hooked over the edge and he could feel them slip down his hips slightly and he frowned, but then the hand squeezed and he gasped, all coherent thought leaving his mind.

He turned his head to the side, dislodging the lips on his neck and without opening his eyes, he began to kiss the man behind him. He felt the slide of lips against his own and he moaned slightly, his mouth opening, paving the way for the tongue to enter. He felt it slide against his own and he twisted a little more, pressing his lips harder against the stranger’s, tongues twining around each other, searching for something. The arm around his chest tightened, pulling him tight against the man behind him and the hand in his pants pulled out. He groaned in disappointment, but then the hand pressed against his abdomen, fingers spread wide, and the hips against his own began to grind harder.

He could feel the erection digging into his arse. He pressed back, his free arm reaching behind and grabbing the man’s waist, the two of them fused together by sex and lust. He moaned, needing more, wanting to go somewhere and rip of his clothes. He wanted to be filled, fucked, kissed and sucked. His chest was heaving as the arm moving slightly, fingers playing with his nipple causing him to bend and whimper, breaking the kiss so he could pant in the cool air.

The man's lips immediately latched onto his neck once more, sucking and nipping as if it were the man’s last shag on earth, but Harry wasn’t complaining. He pressed back into the man harder. He was sure his erection was going to be exposed any second as his pants slipped further and further down his hips.

He turned, dislodging the arms and the neck, making sure to keep his eyes closed. He could feel the man’s disappointment fill the air between them before it was gone as he pressed himself against the body and began to grind their hips meeting together like a puzzle piece. He moaned loudly as his erection slid against his pants, meeting the hardness of the other.

A nose nudged his chin and he tilted his head back obligingly. He felt a pair of teeth nip at his chin before lips and teeth sunk into the skin around his Adam’s apple and began to suck on it. He swallowed, feeling the protruding piece of skin slid under teeth and he shivered, delighting in the feeling.

The hands that had been holding him earlier slid under his shirt and rested on his shoulder blades, the two of them pressed together. His own arms came down, resting on the man’s hips as he pressed harder and harder, needing more. The man slid his hands down Harry's back into his pants, grasped his arse and pulling closer. Harry let out a loud whimper when a single digit moved, sliding between his arse cheeks and running over his entrance. His fingers on the man’s hips tightened as pleasure began to course through his veins. He ducked his head, dislodging the lips from his neck and once more began to kiss the man.

He wasn’t sure how long he kissed, or how long the man had been running his finger along his entrance, dipping in slightly from time to time, but when he broke the kiss he was panting and wanting nothing more than to lay down and spread his legs right there and demand the man take him. The kiss slowly ground to a halt and the hands in his pants were removed, resting on his hips with ease.

However, the part of him that had been trained extensively for war arose and demanded he knew who the man was and everything he could about him. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, suddenly accosted by the outline of a pale man with a golden glow from the firelight surrounding him, making him look like an angel. Harry blinked his eyes blurry and he waited, the man’s movements stilled, the both of them stood motionless like rocks in a stormy sea.

The man in front of him slowly came into focus until his features stood in clear detail and Harry felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. He swallowed, his arousal dimming, but to his disgust, it did not fade. He was still, unable to move as he stared in mounting horror at the person next to him.

“Draco,” was expelled from his lips, parted in shock and before the man had a chance to comment, he had wrenched himself away.

He heard his name yelled out but he ignored it pushing past the people still dancing until he was clear of them before breaking into a run. He didn’t know which way he was going and frankly he didn’t care. He just wanted to get away, the potion in the drink forcing him to see clearing, without inhibition and he hated it. He knew he wanted and loved the blond still, and he could see it clearly in his mind that he had never gotten over it, but he didn’t want to deal with it. He wanted to run, run and never come back.

He heard his name fill the air as well as the pat of feet running fast after him and he turned, heading in a different direction, dodging between the trees wondering how big this place actually was. He crashed into a clearing and came to a halt, staring wide-eyed at the group of men before him, naked and devouring one man stretching out on the ground and writhing in pleasure. He swallowed, and stared as lust began to fill his mind again and take over. He took a step forward but his name, closer now than ever, filled his mind and he turned, ignoring the pleas to join them and began to run again.

He turned his head for a brief moment and saw a pale figure moving through the trees, ghost like and nimble and gaining ground. He had never been good at running and now it was hindering him as his legs began to burn and his breath became short. He could hear the thud of booted feet coming closer and closer and he felt panic well up inside of him. He needed to get away, he had to get away. He couldn’t deal with this now.

Turning around another tree, Harry caught sight of a wall rushing up to meet him. He attempted to stop and only managed in tripping over something and running into the wall at full speed. A loud grunt was forced out of his mouth as his body flattened against the unyielding barrier.

He groaned, leaning against the wall as he tried to regain the breath that had been knocked out of him. He could hear the footsteps coming closer and closer and he raised a hand, pounding his fist against the wall. He was breathing harshly, both from the run and from the impact as a series of curse words escape from his lips blaming everything from the trees, to the owners of the club, to the potion. He dropped his head, resting it against the wall as he fought to regain his breath, wishing there was an instant counter cure for the lust that ran though his veins aided by the potion.

He heard Draco crash through the trees and skid to a halt right behind him. He could hear the harsh breathing behind him and took solace in the fact that Malfoy seemed to be just as winded as he was. He took a deep breath, knowing that he would have to face the blond and he wasn’t sure how this was going to turn out. The events of yesterday were weighing heavily on his mind, as were the events that had just transpired. He didn’t know what to do.

_May 1st 2008 9:49 PM_

“Harry,” Malfoy said softly, breaking him from his thoughts.

Harry swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before he opened them. He took a deep breath and turned around. He felt the lust surge inside of him as he took in Malfoy’s disheveled appearance. The blond was dressed in a pair of gray slacks with a white button down shirt, opened to the navel. His usually impeccable hair was in disarray and Harry was sure he could see a leaf in it. The usually pale lips were red and swollen, probably from their earlier kiss, and his cheeks were flushed from the run.

Harry dug his fingers into the wall as much as he could, stopping himself from attacking the gorgeous man who, for one in his life, was looking worried and was confused.

“What,” he began only to be stopped by the lump in this throat. He tried again. “What do you want?” he asked cursing that his voice sounded so shaky.

Malfoy took a step forward. “You,” he said simply.

He could only blink and stare at the blond stupidly. “Oh no, if this is some inane attempt to make me re-sign, just fuck off Malfoy. Don’t even bother.”

“You know as well as I do that we can’t lie right now,” Malfoy said, a small crease forming on his forehead.

“Oh no, I can’t lie. Some of us actually need a potion to act like a slut,” he spat out.

He swore he imagined the flash of hurt that crossed Malfoy’s eyes as it was there for a moment and then in the next it was gone. He swallowed as Malfoy took another step forward and he felt the lust spike in his blood, causing his temperature to rise and his cock to twitch. He fought with his mind, telling himself that he didn’t want the blond, that this was merely a reaction to stress and a lack of sex in his life.

“I’m serious. I want you,” Malfoy said.

“Sure seemed like it yesterday,” he spat out mirthlessly.

Malfoy winced. “You caught me at a bad time. I, I am sorry for the way I acted. It was not intended.”

“What? Didn’t get your daily dose of cheating?” Harry asked. He knew he was playing unfairly, but at this point, he could care less. 

Malfoy winced again. “I deserve that, but for what it is worth, I truly am sorry. I would like to believe I have changed since then. I regret doing that to you, and I’d like to make it up to you.”

He shook his head. “You do not get to come in here, fucking years later and tell me you want to start over. It doesn’t work like that Malfoy. Even Pansy said you’d never change. Just fuck off, please.”

Malfoy shook his head and took another step forward until they were almost pressed flush against each other. This close Harry could see the slight look of desperation in those gray eyes and he swallowed, wishing the wall would swallow him up, or for his body to stop responding to the close proximity of Malfoy.

“You’re wrong, I have changed, I’d like for you to believe me,” Malfoy said taking the final step forward, causing the two of them to fit together once more.

Harry swallowed, and forced himself to be still, when all he really wanted was to feel the blond moving against him like they had done before. He hated the potion at this point, hated how it made him unable to lie, hated that it made him want nothing more than to lean against the wall and wrap his legs around Malfoy’s waist and hold on for a ride.

His breathing stuttered as he felt a pair of lips ghost over his neck and he swallowed, hands coming up and pushing the blond away with a growl. “Don’t touch me.”

He fought to keep his lust under control as he turned and began to walk away. He couldn’t do this; his emotions couldn’t handle this right now. Tomorrow maybe, when the potion wasn’t causing this reaction in him. It had to be the potion; he would never feel this way about Malfoy, not again. He had built a brick wall the last time they ended things, and it had never been torn down.

He heard footsteps crunch behind him and that was his only warning before he was shoved against a tree and Malfoy pressed against him. He wrapped his fingers around Harry's wrists and drew his arms up. Harry bucked and twisted, trying to get away but was unable to. It seemed as if Malfoy had a grip of steel. Harry swallowed, irrational fear that he was going to be raped springing up in his mind. He fought back the lump in his throat, as a pair of lips descended next to his ear and licked it.

“You’re going to listen to me Potter, one way or another,” Malfoy hissed.

He struggled, attempting to get some leverage against the tree, trying to push the blond man away so he could run. He knew if he screamed no one would think second thoughts about it, this was a sex club, screaming only made them seem like they were having a hell of a lot of fun. He felt his eyes burn with shame, realizing that for all his training, for the years of running from bad guys, he couldn’t run away from Malfoy. He bucked again, succeeding in getting his body off the tree trunk for a moment before he was slammed back into it, a grunt forced out of him. He felt the bark dig into his bare skin, scratching and tearing at him as he continued to struggle. 

 

draco - drawn  
Liath Earrach for ninnive. Part Two.  
mood: busy  
music: kd lang: Tears Of Love's Recall

 

May 1st 2008 8:52 PM

He turned in the mirror one more time, posing to make sure he outfit was ok, a black button down shirt, black slacks and a pair of comfortable shoes. The pants were a little long and they hung off his hips, threatening to slide at any moment. They were his roommate's and since George was an inch or so taller than he was, they didn’t fit quite right. He didn’t mind though, he had never really liked tight clothing; no matter how many times George or Dexter tried to force him into form fitting outfits. It wasn’t him; even the shirt was too much. He glanced at his draws, wanting to tear the stiff fabric off his body and grab one of his soft, warm shirts that he knew he could sweat in and still be comfortable.

A voice floated up from downstairs, “Potter you prick, we’re running late.”

“Fuck off Dexter. It doesn’t matter what time we get there,” he yelled back, moving to lean over the railing to look down into the living room.

“I know, I just don’t want to be late,” the six foot tall, ex-rugby player with brown hair and eyes replied, smiling cheekily back up at him.

“Fucker, let's go,” he said moving to the stairs and walking down.

“I love your house, did I ever tell you that?” Dexter asked when he reached the bottom.

He grinned. “Numerous times, trust me,” he said with a sign of annoyance, when he was anything but. He loved his house as well, it was an old renovated barn with the bottom half made into a living room and a kitchen and the top had been split into three parts, two rooms with an oversized bathroom connecting them.

“Flooing or what?” Dexter asked holding out his hand for Harry to take.

“Flooing,” Harry replied grabbing the offered hand and dragging Dexter to the Floo.

“But my pants,” Dexter cried out, planting his feet, jerking Harry back.

Harry turned and glared, flicking his fingers at Dexter. “There, problem solved. A little repelling spell and you’re good.”

Dexter grinned. “Thank you sweetie, now let's go.”

Harry rolled his eyes but smiled back at his friend and allowed himself to be dragged this time to the fireplace and through the fire arriving at the club after a few disorientating spins.

“God, I hate that,” Harry muttered when he found he could stand back up without feeling as if he was going to lose everything he had eaten since 1997.

“So do I, now, let’s go party,” Dexter said, grinning wildly. Harry returned the grin as Dexter grabbed his hand and dragged him straight to where the punch was.

Harry studied the punch, examined the smell and color, trying to see if there was anything wrong with it. He didn’t want a repeat of last year. He couldn’t see anything different between his glass and Dexter’s, so he took a cautious sip. It didn’t taste any different. He could see Dexter looking at him oddly and so he managed a sheepish smile and downed the rest of it in a large mouthful. He placed the glass back down and winced at the burn the vodka left in the back of his throat.

It took a moment before he could feel himself become blessedly free, his inhibitions slipping away and he smiled at Dexter, noting the fogged, but happy gaze of his friend. Dexter smiled at him and grabbed Harry's hand, dragging him to the doors that lead to the forest.

Harry pulled on Dexter's hand before they had a chance to separate, something George had asked coming to the forefront of his mind. “Can I crash at your place tonight?”

Dexter looked confused for a moment before smiling dreamily and nodding. “Of course you can mate, only the best for my best.”

Harry grinned and released the hand he had a death grip on. Dexter nodded to him before he disappeared into the forest leaving him by the door feeling happy and completely in control. He turned and looked at the group of people lingering behind him, looking at the punch warily and he smiled. Turning back he stepped into the forest, heading for the clearing he knew to be at the right of the entrance, where everyone went to dance.

As he wandered through the forest, he dragged his hand over the tree trunks, feeling the silky cool moss and the rough bark catch and caress his fingers. His smile widened, teeth showing between his lips as he caught sight of the fire flickering through the trees. He sped his steps up wanting to get closer, wanting to dance.

He stepped into the clearing and the crowd swallowed him, men and women writhing around each other to the beat of music that seemed to come out of thin air. He felt people press up to either side of him and begin to dance and he began to move with them, rubbing his hips against theirs, his eyes half closed and vision hazy. He breathed in deep, the smell of pine and wood smoke invading his lungs and settling there, filling him with an even further sense of calm. He felt the pounding drum reverberate around the air and sink into his chest until it was beating with his head.

thump…thump…thump

A hand grasped his hip and pulled him against a body behind him. The fingers felt long as the other hand came to run across his stomach, moving under his shirt, unbuttoning it slowly from the bottom, one by one until his chest was exposed to the night air. He tilted his head back, his eyes falling completely shut as he gave over to the sensation of the cool hand against his warm skin.

The hand on his hip moved, a thumb hooking over the button in his pants and the rest of his fingers splayed out across the rapidly growing bulge in his pants. Lips pressed against his neck and he tilted his head to the side with a smile, hips still moving to the beat. One hand moved, running over his nipples and he gasped, his back arching slightly as the finger pinched the little nub lightly at the same time as the other hand squeezed him, making him arch even more.

He swallowed back a cry of pleasure as a gust of wind blew though the clearing, the cool wind brushing over his skin like another set of hands. He could feel silky hair slid over his face and he raised a hand, wrapping it around the neck of the person behind them. His arm tightening slightly, the hint of teeth that had appeared on his neck becoming harder, more real and he moaned, his chest beginning to heave. The hand on his crotch moved, fingers sliding into his pants, thumb hooked over the edge and he could feel them slip down his hips slightly and he frowned, but then the hand squeezed and he gasped, all coherent thought leaving his mind.

He turned his head to the side, dislodging the lips on his neck and without opening his eyes, he began to kiss the man behind him. He felt the slide of lips against his own and he moaned slightly, his mouth opening, paving the way for the tongue to enter. He felt it slide against his own and he twisted a little more, pressing his lips harder against the stranger’s, tongues twining around each other, searching for something. The arm around his chest tightened, pulling him tight against the man behind him and the hand in his pants pulled out. He groaned in disappointment, but then the hand pressed against his abdomen, fingers spread wide, and the hips against his own began to grind harder.

He could feel the erection digging into his arse. He pressed back, his free arm reaching behind and grabbing the man’s waist, the two of them fused together by sex and lust. He moaned, needing more, wanting to go somewhere and rip of his clothes. He wanted to be filled, fucked, kissed and sucked. His chest was heaving as the arm moving slightly, fingers playing with his nipple causing him to bend and whimper, breaking the kiss so he could pant in the cool air.

The man's lips immediately latched onto his neck once more, sucking and nipping as if it were the man’s last shag on earth, but Harry wasn’t complaining. He pressed back into the man harder. He was sure his erection was going to be exposed any second as his pants slipped further and further down his hips.

He turned, dislodging the arms and the neck, making sure to keep his eyes closed. He could feel the man’s disappointment fill the air between them before it was gone as he pressed himself against the body and began to grind their hips meeting together like a puzzle piece. He moaned loudly as his erection slid against his pants, meeting the hardness of the other.

A nose nudged his chin and he tilted his head back obligingly. He felt a pair of teeth nip at his chin before lips and teeth sunk into the skin around his Adam’s apple and began to suck on it. He swallowed, feeling the protruding piece of skin slid under teeth and he shivered, delighting in the feeling.

The hands that had been holding him earlier slid under his shirt and rested on his shoulder blades, the two of them pressed together. His own arms came down, resting on the man’s hips as he pressed harder and harder, needing more. The man slid his hands down Harry's back into his pants, grasped his arse and pulling closer. Harry let out a loud whimper when a single digit moved, sliding between his arse cheeks and running over his entrance. His fingers on the man’s hips tightened as pleasure began to course through his veins. He ducked his head, dislodging the lips from his neck and once more began to kiss the man.

He wasn’t sure how long he kissed, or how long the man had been running his finger along his entrance, dipping in slightly from time to time, but when he broke the kiss he was panting and wanting nothing more than to lay down and spread his legs right there and demand the man take him. The kiss slowly ground to a halt and the hands in his pants were removed, resting on his hips with ease.

However, the part of him that had been trained extensively for war arose and demanded he knew who the man was and everything he could about him. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, suddenly accosted by the outline of a pale man with a golden glow from the firelight surrounding him, making him look like an angel. Harry blinked his eyes blurry and he waited, the man’s movements stilled, the both of them stood motionless like rocks in a stormy sea.

The man in front of him slowly came into focus until his features stood in clear detail and Harry felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. He swallowed, his arousal dimming, but to his disgust, it did not fade. He was still, unable to move as he stared in mounting horror at the person next to him.

“Draco,” was expelled from his lips, parted in shock and before the man had a chance to comment, he had wrenched himself away.

He heard his name yelled out but he ignored it pushing past the people still dancing until he was clear of them before breaking into a run. He didn’t know which way he was going and frankly he didn’t care. He just wanted to get away, the potion in the drink forcing him to see clearing, without inhibition and he hated it. He knew he wanted and loved the blond still, and he could see it clearly in his mind that he had never gotten over it, but he didn’t want to deal with it. He wanted to run, run and never come back.

He heard his name fill the air as well as the pat of feet running fast after him and he turned, heading in a different direction, dodging between the trees wondering how big this place actually was. He crashed into a clearing and came to a halt, staring wide-eyed at the group of men before him, naked and devouring one man stretching out on the ground and writhing in pleasure. He swallowed, and stared as lust began to fill his mind again and take over. He took a step forward but his name, closer now than ever, filled his mind and he turned, ignoring the pleas to join them and began to run again.

He turned his head for a brief moment and saw a pale figure moving through the trees, ghost like and nimble and gaining ground. He had never been good at running and now it was hindering him as his legs began to burn and his breath became short. He could hear the thud of booted feet coming closer and closer and he felt panic well up inside of him. He needed to get away, he had to get away. He couldn’t deal with this now.

Turning around another tree, Harry caught sight of a wall rushing up to meet him. He attempted to stop and only managed in tripping over something and running into the wall at full speed. A loud grunt was forced out of his mouth as his body flattened against the unyielding barrier.

He groaned, leaning against the wall as he tried to regain the breath that had been knocked out of him. He could hear the footsteps coming closer and closer and he raised a hand, pounding his fist against the wall. He was breathing harshly, both from the run and from the impact as a series of curse words escape from his lips blaming everything from the trees, to the owners of the club, to the potion. He dropped his head, resting it against the wall as he fought to regain his breath, wishing there was an instant counter cure for the lust that ran though his veins aided by the potion.

He heard Draco crash through the trees and skid to a halt right behind him. He could hear the harsh breathing behind him and took solace in the fact that Malfoy seemed to be just as winded as he was. He took a deep breath, knowing that he would have to face the blond and he wasn’t sure how this was going to turn out. The events of yesterday were weighing heavily on his mind, as were the events that had just transpired. He didn’t know what to do.

May 1st 2008 9:49 PM

“Harry,” Malfoy said softly, breaking him from his thoughts.

Harry swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before he opened them. He took a deep breath and turned around. He felt the lust surge inside of him as he took in Malfoy’s disheveled appearance. The blond was dressed in a pair of gray slacks with a white button down shirt, opened to the navel. His usually impeccable hair was in disarray and Harry was sure he could see a leaf in it. The usually pale lips were red and swollen, probably from their earlier kiss, and his cheeks were flushed from the run.

Harry dug his fingers into the wall as much as he could, stopping himself from attacking the gorgeous man who, for one in his life, was looking worried and was confused.

“What,” he began only to be stopped by the lump in this throat. He tried again. “What do you want?” he asked cursing that his voice sounded so shaky.

Malfoy took a step forward. “You,” he said simply.

He could only blink and stare at the blond stupidly. “Oh no, if this is some inane attempt to make me re-sign, just fuck off Malfoy. Don’t even bother.”

“You know as well as I do that we can’t lie right now,” Malfoy said, a small crease forming on his forehead.

“Oh no, I can’t lie. Some of us actually need a potion to act like a slut,” he spat out.

He swore he imagined the flash of hurt that crossed Malfoy’s eyes as it was there for a moment and then in the next it was gone. He swallowed as Malfoy took another step forward and he felt the lust spike in his blood, causing his temperature to rise and his cock to twitch. He fought with his mind, telling himself that he didn’t want the blond, that this was merely a reaction to stress and a lack of sex in his life.

“I’m serious. I want you,” Malfoy said.

“Sure seemed like it yesterday,” he spat out mirthlessly.

Malfoy winced. “You caught me at a bad time. I, I am sorry for the way I acted. It was not intended.”

“What? Didn’t get your daily dose of cheating?” Harry asked. He knew he was playing unfairly, but at this point, he could care less.

Malfoy winced again. “I deserve that, but for what it is worth, I truly am sorry. I would like to believe I have changed since then. I regret doing that to you, and I’d like to make it up to you.”

He shook his head. “You do not get to come in here, fucking years later and tell me you want to start over. It doesn’t work like that Malfoy. Even Pansy said you’d never change. Just fuck off, please.”

Malfoy shook his head and took another step forward until they were almost pressed flush against each other. This close Harry could see the slight look of desperation in those gray eyes and he swallowed, wishing the wall would swallow him up, or for his body to stop responding to the close proximity of Malfoy.

“You’re wrong, I have changed, I’d like for you to believe me,” Malfoy said taking the final step forward, causing the two of them to fit together once more.

Harry swallowed, and forced himself to be still, when all he really wanted was to feel the blond moving against him like they had done before. He hated the potion at this point, hated how it made him unable to lie, hated that it made him want nothing more than to lean against the wall and wrap his legs around Malfoy’s waist and hold on for a ride.

His breathing stuttered as he felt a pair of lips ghost over his neck and he swallowed, hands coming up and pushing the blond away with a growl. “Don’t touch me.”

He fought to keep his lust under control as he turned and began to walk away. He couldn’t do this; his emotions couldn’t handle this right now. Tomorrow maybe, when the potion wasn’t causing this reaction in him. It had to be the potion; he would never feel this way about Malfoy, not again. He had built a brick wall the last time they ended things, and it had never been torn down.

He heard footsteps crunch behind him and that was his only warning before he was shoved against a tree and Malfoy pressed against him. He wrapped his fingers around Harry's wrists and drew his arms up. Harry bucked and twisted, trying to get away but was unable to. It seemed as if Malfoy had a grip of steel. Harry swallowed, irrational fear that he was going to be raped springing up in his mind. He fought back the lump in his throat, as a pair of lips descended next to his ear and licked it.

“You’re going to listen to me Potter, one way or another,” Malfoy hissed.

He struggled, attempting to get some leverage against the tree, trying to push the blond man away so he could run. He knew if he screamed no one would think second thoughts about it, this was a sex club, screaming only made them seem like they were having a hell of a lot of fun. He felt his eyes burn with shame, realizing that for all his training, for the years of running from bad guys, he couldn’t run away from Malfoy. He bucked again, succeeding in getting his body off the tree trunk for a moment before he was slammed back into it, a grunt forced out of him. He felt the bark dig into his bare skin, scratching and tearing at him as he continued to struggle.

“I want you Harry, I was a fool to let you go,” Malfoy purred, nuzzling into his hair. “Nine years ago I made the biggest mistake of my life, and two years ago I realized it, and yesterday, I made another mistake.”

He stopped struggling; listening to what Malfoy had to say, some part of him accepting that the blond couldn’t lie to him.

“It was at Pansy and Weasley’s wedding. I saw you there; standing tanned in those fitted robes of yours and thought to myself that this cannot be the little Harry Potter I fucked seven years ago. Then you looked at me with those brilliant green eyes and I knew I wanted to fuck you again. However, you slipped away at the last moment.”

He remembered that part. He remembered the tight ache in his chest at the sight of Malfoy front row, smirking as if he owned the world. He had seen the shocked look that had crossed the blond's face at the sight of him, and he remembered the feeling of satisfaction that filled him when the shock turned into barely concealed lust. He had made sure to stay away from Malfoy, no matter what, not wanting to get into a fight on his best friend’s wedding day.

Malfoy continued. “And then last year, last year I saw you here and I went to talk to you, and you attached yourself to me like a little slag and started to dance. And you danced well, I could feel myself responding to you so easily, bringing out a feeling of lust stronger than anything else. You offered to sleep with me and I took it, wanting to know what would happen. And we had sex. You were uninhibited, so wild, screaming and crying, writhing around on the forest floor looking like a little wood nymph with your green eyes and tanned skinned. You wanted more and more, harder and harder and I gave it to you, and we kissed and we came and it was brilliant. I left you that night with a number to call, but you never called.”

Harry whimpered, flashes of his dreams coming to haunt him as the previously blurry face turned into something more real, something solid, something Malfoy. He could feel the erection pressed against his arse and before he could stop himself, he leaned back, his chest pressing into the tree and his arse pressed into Malfoy’s groin.

Malfoy hissed behind him. “And then I started to get the complaints from patrons, that someone had spiked the punch and I looked into it and I found out that someone had decided to add a little Ecstasy into my mix. I knew you wouldn’t remember and for some reason this made me feel like I wanted to cry.”

Harry's brain started to churn in confusion as his body was grabbed and roughly turned around. Malfoy let him go and he knew he could make a run for it, but he stayed, wanting to hear the rest of the story. “Y-y-y-your m-mix?”

Malfoy’s eyes flashed, and his teeth shone bright white in the darkness. “Yes Potter, my mix. I own this place. I built it, I got the idea for it, I made it happen and you showed up and ruined everything for those first couple of years, but then I found I didn’t mind.”

Harry whimpered and stared into those gray eyes, his brain telling him to run, run now while Malfoy was weak and he would be safe in his cave of denial, but his body wouldn’t listen. He remained where he was, silent, still, waiting to hear the rest of the story.

“And then after about three months and you didn’t come visit me, I knew I had to do something, so I went to find out how I could get close to you. And lo and behold, the Cannons were for sale, and so I bought them, biding my time, planning what I was going to say, what I was going to do to prove to you that I actually wanted you, and not your only body. Then it all went up into flames, you were impressed by my plans, but annoyed with me and this pissed me off. You were not supposed to resist me. I looked perfect, I was hot and you just shrugged me off. Therefore, I did what I needed to do. I attempted to seduce you, but still you resisted and this made me even angrier and I yelled and I thought I'd blown it.”

Harry was wide-eyed, limp against the tree, as Malfoy talked more and more. He swallowed, knowing that Draco could feel his erection pressing into his hip. He watched as the blond’s eyes traveled down, looking at this groin and licking his lips.

“I came here tonight, hoping that you were going to show and you did. You felt good in my arms, our hips fit together perfectly, and our lips sliding against one another. You lips tasted like mint and chocolate, with a hint of coffee underneath it. I wanted to eat you from the inside out. Your skin tasted heavenly, vanilla and something else, something uniquely you that made me want to thrown you down right there and shag you. And your moans, oh Merlin, what they do to me, even now,” Draco said, lips gasping into his ear as their hips began to move against one another, forcefully, passionately.

Harry's final reserves broke down and his mind shut off as he leaned forward and kissed Malfoy, planting his lips right against the blond's, his tongue snaking out to run across Malfoy's bottom lip. Draco was still for a moment before he returned the kiss. Tongues slid against each other, battling for dominance, a duel neither of them wanted to win.

Draco released his arms and instantly Harry wrapped them around his neck, tilting his head to the side and fitting their mouths together as hard as he could. Malfoy broke the kiss with a gasp leaving them both flushed and panting. Desperately, Malfoy began fumbling with the buttons on Harry's pants. Harry moved his own hands down, fumbling with the zipper on Draco's pants, and succeeded in opening them and letting them slide down.

He batted away the hands on his own pants and sank to his knees, eyes only for Malfoy’s groin as he grabbed a hold of the pants and dragged them all the way down. He licked his lips, staring at the blond's cock before he leaned forwards and swallowed it whole, his mouth traveling further, and further down until his nose bumped against the boy's abdomen. He heard a strangled cry above him and he looked up see Draco's head thrown back in pleasure. He smirked around his mouthful as best as he could and then focused on his task, drawing his mouth back up with a hint of teeth and suction enough to cause Malfoy to moan loudly. He felt a hand tangle in his hair and drag his face forward and he relaxed, allowing Malfoy to shove his cock down his throat and begin to fuck his mouth. He swallowed, trying to take in as much as he could of the rapidly moving cock.

Suddenly, Malfoy pulled out with a cry and Harry sucked in a deep breath, looking up in confusion as eyed Draco's weeping cock, wanting to get that delicious appendage back into his mouth. Draco grabbed his bicep and dragged Harry up and slammed him against the tree, the bark digging into his back. He felt a hand wrap around his leg and yank it up. Harry quickly squirmed about, wrapping his leg around Draco’s waist before they repeated with the other one. He braced himself against the tree as he heard whispered words and suddenly they were naked.

Harry gasped when the barrier between his back and the bark disappeared and suddenly half of his back was getting scratched while the other half was being caressed by the cool moss. He swallowed and arched his hips as a finger ran over his arse and down between his cheeks before slipping in, eased by something slimy. He could see Draco’s tongue poking between his teeth in concentration as the find slid in and out of him a few times before it was followed by a second and then a third. By this time Harry was arching, gasping, wanting more and more, the flashes from the previous year intermingling with this year and making it that much better.

Suddenly the hand was gone and Malfoy's cock was pressing into him. Harry stilled, forcing his body to relax, to accept. Then Draco was all the way in. Slowly he pulled out, than thrust back in again and finally Harry was being fucked well and truly. He twisted and squirmed, moving his body in any way possible to get more pleasure, get more from Draco. With one arm wrapped around Draco's neck, the other wrapped around his cock, pulling it in time with the thrusts. He could feel nails and fingers dig into his hips and his thighs, holding him in place and marking him with bruises that were sure to never go away, and at this point, he never wanted them to.

His body bent like a bow when the next thrust glanced of off his prostate and the pleasure spiked through his body as pain followed on its heels as Draco’s teeth sunk into his neck, seemingly needing to get his own purchase in reality while they still could. He moved the hand around Draco’s neck and buried it in his hair, yanking his head back, dislodging the mouth from marking his neck repeatedly, forming a necklace of love bites and teeth marks and kissed him furiously, nipping his lips and swallowing down the moan.

Harry tightened his grip on his prick, jerking it harder and faster, and the pleasure shooting up and down his spine making him unintelligible. He wanted to come, he needed to come. He felt Draco hit his prostate once more and that was enough for his lust and adrenaline filled body. He could feel Draco pull out, and thrust back in and he came, his muscles clenching sporadically, his back arched and a loud keening wail tore itself from this throat as pleasure spiked through his body.

He shuddered, feeling as Draco slammed all the way in, pressing him to the tree and into the bark. All he could do was hang on to the blond helplessly as wave after wave of passion sent sparks through his body, all the way to his fingers and toes, making him feel as if he were alight with fire.

He collapsed against the tree, boneless and sated, barely managing enough energy to keep his legs tight around the blond, conscious that his partner still had not come. He held on as Draco began to move again, drawing out and slamming back in, uncaring of where he aimed. His breath hitched as he felt Draco's cock glance of off his prostate, the pleasure that was still shooting sparks up and down his spine became that much more intense. He shivered, wanting the blond to hurry up. He managed to arch his back, and hitch his legs up a little more, opening himself up, allowing the blond entrance, before he squeezed his muscles holding Draco inside of him, trying to help him come as fast as possible.

He realized that Draco was whispering into his neck and he turned his head, trying to make sense of what the blond was saying.

“Once more chance, just please, give me one more chance, I love you, one more chance,” Draco mumbled, his words muffled, but Harry could hear them loud and clear. He gasped his body stiffening in shock at the use of the ‘L’ word. He was confused, and tired and sated, he twisted, his muscles clenching as he tried to get rid of the cramp that was forming and this seemed to be all that Draco needed as suddenly he was coming and he could feel it filling him up inside.

Teeth sunk into his collarbone, hurting and he cried out in pain, but the cry was ignored as Draco slammed into him, forcing his back to slide across the bark again. He could feel a few bark pieces dislodging themselves, and catching onto to the already torn skin on his back, digging in deeper. A few drops of blood mingled with the sweat.

He could feel Draco trembling between his thighs and that was the only warning before the blond collapsed onto the ground, Harry falling on top. He cried out in pain as the bark opened the skin on his back and he collapsed forward against Draco, biting his lip to stop the pain. He could feel the rivulets sliding down his skin and he shivered, hating the tangy coppery smell in the air.

“What’s wrong?” Draco asked him between gasping breaths.

“My back,” he whimpered.

He felt Draco move and lean over him and he heard and felt the sharp intake of breath. A finger gently prodded the outside of one of the wounds, somewhere around his spine and he gasped, bending to get away from it and the pain that radiated out from his back.

Draco swore. “Fuck, Harry, hold tight alright?”

He nodded, wrapping his arms around the blond, feeling the skin pull at the movement. A moment later he felt a squeezing sensation and then the trees faded into a bedroom, and the tree trunk and leaves beneath his knees transformed into soft bedcovers. He looked around, taking in the muted earth tones and wouldn’t be surprised if the room was actually the forest transformed.

He shifted, squinting at the warm glow filling the room. Draco muttered curses as his fingers pressed gently onto Harry's back, around one of the wounds. Harry hissed, the sting almost too much for him to bear.

“Lay down Harry,” Draco said.

Harry nodded, laying down and pillowing his head on his arms. He shifted, feeling slightly uncomfortable at the fact that he was naked, vulnerable and laying God knew where.

“I’m going to have to clean these alright?” Draco asked.

He turned his head and looked at the man, taking in the bitten bottom lip and the slightly shuttered look on his face before he nodded. He braced himself for the intense sting that would come with the application of the cleaning charm. It came and did not disappoint as the feeling of warm soap being poured and rubbed away caused his entire back to sting at once. He bit his lip, holding back a cry of pain as he waited for it to fade away. He realized he was tensing his muscles and he relaxed them, one by one, consciously making sure they did what he told them to do. He could feel the stinging fade and he relaxed into the bed even more, making sure not to move, not wanting to pull his back even more.

“I’m going to heal it now alright?” Draco said a trace of nervousness under his voice.

He nodded and closed himself. He had never liked healing spells; they tended to make him feel slightly loopy and nauseous, as if he had just gotten off of a roller coaster. He had also never particularly liked the feeling of his muscles and skin knitting together, leaving only the faintest of scars. He could feel his skin pulling tighter, the wounds healing as Draco muttered a few more words and the sensation stopped.

He moved to turn over, only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder and a warm flannel on his back, cleaning the blood, dirt and semen off his body. He relaxed, feeling loved and still confused.

“You could just use a cleaning spell,” he murmured.

Draco chuckled and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “I know, but I wanted to.”

He nodded. “You’ve changed.”

“So have you.”

He didn’t know how to reply to that so he stayed there, relaxing further and further into the bed, thinking of their encounter, the confessions and trying to make sense of it all. He was sure it was the potion messing with his mind, making him want to jump into this, just say yes, and declare his love for Draco and cute little puppies and the need to procreate. However, his mind held him back, firmly in control of his actions.

He felt the flannel leave his body and a second later, and a few choice words; he was dressed in a pair of sleep pants. He rolled onto his side, resting his head on his shoulder and looked at Draco, biting his bottom lip. The room was silent and the tension was palatable and he sighed, coming to a conclusion.

“I don’t love you anymore, I never did,” he began, ignoring the hurt look that bloomed across Draco’s face for a moment before it was gone. Ignoring it, he continued. “And I’m not sure if I trust you yet.”

He heard a deep shuddering breath and saw Draco looking at him with uncharacteristic sadness and pain open for the world to see on his features. He felt a surge of guilt when he realized how his words must have sounded and plowed ahead. “And I am sure this is a momentously bad idea, but I’d like to give it another shot.”

He saw the shock and then the hope blossom on Draco’s face and the small hint of a smile that tugged at the corner of his lips. “Really?” Draco breathed out.

He nodded and sat up, his face serious. “One chance, if you mess up, it’s over, no chance of another, you got it?”

Draco nodded. “Completely, I promise nothing bad will happen this time.”

He smiled and rolled his eyes, feeling an arm wrap around his shoulders and a kiss bestowed on his forehead. “I should bloody well hope not.”

He felt a pair of lips descend and kiss him softly and he reposed gently, the two of them kissing, exploring each other’s mouths once more, the loss of nine years weighing heavily on their minds. He bit Draco’s bottom lip, tugging it gently into his own mouth and sucking, a hand moving to run down the smooth chest bared in front of him before he lightly grasped Draco’s cock, lying soft against his thigh and began to work him into hardness.

“You’re a prat, you know that right?” Draco asked with a gasp, tilting his head back, the ring of love bites in stark contrast with his pale skin.

Harry smiled and nodded. “I know.”


End file.
